Summary: Milano Entolasia, maid to Princess Alita, is prepared to die for Forland. But when Milano survives a blood-soaked coup, she learns there's more danger coming, danger which could destroy the country she loves and much more. Milano and Falis, the fierce bounty hunter trapped in Alita's body, set out to save the kingdom Alita loved. AU.
This is an alternative universe about Milano Entolasia, when she survives the attack.
Dedicated to anyone who's liked the first Milano Entolasia as well as the other enjoyable characters in Murder Princess, and especially to the person who once nominated the original Milano Entolasia to the Yuletide fic exchange.
A/N: I relied on the Ayako fansub while writing this and apologise for any inaccuracies, particularly in Jodo's and Milano's job descriptions.
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Princess Alita was shy, Princess Alita was a bit of a crybaby, Princess Alita was mannerly, Princess Alita was kind, Princess Alita was her dearest friend, and it was an honour to be Princess Alita's lady-in-waiting and her maid.
And now Milano Entolasia stood wearing Princess Alita's clothes and jewels and powder in her hair. Now Milano Entolasia stood and waited with blood gushing about Princess Alita's boots. Now Milano stood by the corpse of the King. Now Milano watched one by one as friends—guards—childhood playmates—adult friends—unarmed ministers—died screaming.
An Entolasia always served Forland's rulers. Milano's grandfather was by her side and witnessed this alike. She prayed they would not kill an old man. They were killing everyone else. Milano owed her kingdom to stand and to substitute for Alita. Perhaps it was shock that prevented her from turning and running uselessly. Or perhaps she too was a soldier for Forland like those others who did not run away. Captain Rodorim, the second to fight, dead bravely like the soldier he was. Trinpano, who lay with a white face and legs cut away from his body. Saul, whom she knew only from the cut of his coat now when his face was all red. Ceto, ribcage torn from his body like red-white wings. Lydian, who screamed seven feet away from her and had not yet stopped. Every second was one more second that Princess Alita had to reach safety.
Grandfather had seen her father Angelo and her brothers Fiorenze and Taranto and her uncle Aurelio dead for Forland the same. A male Entolasia was soldier or body servant and prepared to die for Forland. They did not warn that others would die before your eyes.
The noise ended. Lydian is dead, Milano Entolasia thought. He taught me to roll dice. Lydian is dead and the last line of defence is gone.
The robot woman with the metal hands began to speak—
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Alita Forland cried when she scraped her knee. Alita Forland wept for days when kittens were drowned. Alita Forland was frightened of millipedes and rats. Alita Forland watched all of her brother's tourneys to the very end with a white face and red cuts on the inside of her palms where her nails bit into the skin, below the notice of any except for Milano.
Alita Forland did not draw katana and wazikashi and murder dozens of goblins and defeat the robot woman with ease, and walk through blood to rest a heeled boot upon her family's throne. Yet this was Alita Forland's body leading fellow warriors to fight.
Milano Entolasia saw a shinigami throw a scythe that wheeled through necks and saw an impossibly big purple man save her at the moment the robot woman's eyes flashed that her deception was known by the murderer behind them.
It is my honour to substitute for Alita Forland, Milano had resolved in herself, and found a smile at the last to defy them. The people coming on the mechanical vehicle saved her and saved Grandfather, but they were too late for all the others.
The smoke from the explosion cleared. Milano stared at her friend and saw nothing of Alita in the eyes of the woman in the blood-spattered dress.
Alita Forland, she thought, her mind as slow as summer treacle. Alita Forland...has saved her country.
And on the ground Milano Entolasia saw the small body of a dark-haired woman with weathered skin and lean, trained muscles, beside the body of all the other goblins. Shock from the explosion had slain her. Milano did not yet know.
A bootheel rested on Forland's throne, a drawn sword driven into its velvet dais. "I am the child of my father. I am the princess who has returned to claim her rightful throne by the sword. I am Alita Forland!"
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